He brushes his thumb across my lower lip, sending a burst of sparks over my skin. My breath catches in my throat as he crowds me up against the wall and lowers his mouth to mine in a hot, heavy kiss that scorches my veins with desire.
I can’t help a small moan, my body going weak against the wall as Dean presses closer, his tongue seeking mine. I wind my hands around his neck, tucking my fingers into his hair as his kiss deepens and fills me with a thousand tiny fires. My sex throbs, my pulse kicking into gear. I fight the urge to slide my hands beneath his vest and unbutton his shirt, running my palms over the hard slopes of his chest— “Ahem.”
I break away from Dean so fast the back of my head thunks against the wall. He moves in front of me, all effortless composure, and turns to greet Allie.
“Hey, Allie.”
“Well, well.” Allie’s voice brightens. “I didn’t know you were back, Dean.”
“Just for a few days.”
Allie introduces Dean to her father, which gives me a chance to regain my own composure before I emerge from behind Dean’s shoulder. Dean steps forward to talk to Max, as Allie approaches me with a sly grin.
“Sorry,” I mutter with embarrassment.
“No worries,” she replies, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “There’s a reason I call him Professor Hottie, you know.”
I pull Dean away from Max so I can give him a tour of the building and tell him all of our plans. He is gratifyingly impressed and supportive, though he doesn’t offer any ideas of his own. On purpose, I know. He’ll keep his word and stay out of it.
“It’s fantastic, Liv,” he tells me. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
“We’re trying.” I hesitate. “But I’ve been worried about us having enough working capital. I mentioned it to Kelsey this afternoon, and she offered to partner with us.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I turned you down when you offered financial help. But a business partnership with Kelsey is different from me taking your money.”
“Liv, you wouldn’t be taking my money. Everything I own is yours too.”
“But this is a business. I need to treat it like one. Which means partnership agreements and budgeting, and not taking money out of our personal accounts just because it would be the easiest thing to do.”
Dean studies me for a second, then nods.
“Okay,” he says. “I get it.”
My slight anxiety eases. “Good. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” He shakes his head, faint amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re the one going into business with a pit viper.”
I smile. “More like a pit bull, don’t you think?”
“That too.”
After we return downstairs, Dean and Max, to neither Allie’s nor my surprise, begin talking about the history of architecture from the Coliseum to Frank Lloyd Wright. Their conversation then turns to the findings of the Altopascio dig, major-league spring training, a recent state senate bill, and finally this awesome bacon burger Max had at a new restaurant in Rainwood.
“How cute,” Allie whispers to me, nodding to where Dean and Max are standing by the front counter. “They’re BFFs already.”
It is pretty cute watching these two tall, handsome men discussing manly things. I think it’s kind of hot, too, though I don’t tell Allie that.
After another half hour, I walk with Dean back out to his car so he can head to Forest Grove.
He opens the car door, then turns to kiss me. His mouth, warm and firm, lingers on mine as he cups the side of my face in his palm. Before I can lose myself in his kiss again, he eases away to look at me.
“Six,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with heat. “Be ready for me.”
“I am ready for you,” I breathe, as shivers shoot through my veins and settle between my legs.
“Be more ready.” He brushes his fingers across my cheek and turns to get into his car.
I watch him go, thinking all those medieval knights had nothing compared to the intense, sexy chivalry of Dean West.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Olivia
hen I get home, there’s a box wrapped in brown paper outside the front door. The name Mrs. Olivia West is scrawled in Dean’s familiar handwriting. With a smile, I bring the box inside and lift off the lid to reveal a clutter of puzzle pieces.
I dump the pieces onto the floor and start putting the puzzle together. Halfway to completion, I know what it is. An upwelling of love and emotion fills me.
I lock the last piece of the puzzle into place and stare at the photograph of me and Dean on our honeymoon in front of the Saint-Chapelle chapel in Paris. I grab my phone to call him, but his voicemail picks up. A text message from him buzzes a few seconds later.
Forty-five minutes.
I hurry to shower and dress in a purple, flower-print bra and matching hiphuggers under a fitted slip. I zip myself into a black sheath dress with a lace overlay, taking extra care with my hair and makeup.